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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24418996">Between the Raindrops</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriannaAllAround/pseuds/BriannaAllAround'>BriannaAllAround</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, M/M, minor character America (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 06:28:16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,572</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24418996</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/BriannaAllAround/pseuds/BriannaAllAround</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It's a rainy day. Feliciano is baking in the kitchen, Ludwig is reading, and Gilbert and Matthew are outside enjoying each other's company despite the rain surrounding them. A quiet day for everyone to bask in mundane happiness. GerIta/PruCan fluff</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Canada/Prussia (Hetalia), Germany/North Italy (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>48</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Between the Raindrops</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Give a listen to “Between the Raindrops” by Lifehouse feat. Natasha Bedingfield. That song was the inspiration for this fic, not letting me escape the image it created in my head, and I think it fits really well with the atmosphere of the story!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The sweet voice hit Ludwig before the smell of the pastries being made within the kitchen did. “And done!” Ludwig looked up from the book he was reading, hearing the faint sound of the oven clicking shut. Hardly a moment later did a man wearing a baker’s apron covered in colorful strawberries appear in the doorway of the living room with a pristine bow tied behind his back. Ludwig knew there was a bow because he was the one who tied it. Brushing off either powdered sugar or flour from his hands, Feliciano smiled brightly over at Ludwig before untying the bow and taking the apron off. There was a smudge of something red on his cheek, and in removing the apron, Feliciano messed up his hair. The warm smile stayed as the apron was draped over the back of a wooden chair to wait to be used again.</p><p>Ludwig could only stare, captivated in the mundane way Feliciano moved.</p><p>“I’m so happy I was able to finally try out my Christmas gift!” Feliciano said with a gesture back to the apron, and the fresh, new baking set being used for the first time in the kitchen. “I can’t believe I left it here; I felt so horrible when I made it back to my dorm and didn’t see it in my car!” Feliciano left the doorway and made his way over to the couch and plopped down beside Ludwig. No, plopped was not a word to describe how Feliciano sat. His movements were always graceful, meaningful, just as an artist is with his brushstrokes. Feliciano dropped his head onto the back of the couch, eyes on the ceiling. “I thought Matthew was going to hate me when I told him!”</p><p>Ludwig placed a finger on the page he was on and closed the book around it, putting his complete focus on Feliciano. “I assured you he wasn’t going to be.”</p><p>“I know you did, but I was still worried.” Warm amber eyes looked over at him, a sad pout on the lips that were smiling just seconds earlier. “I put off telling him for nearly two weeks!”</p><p>“Well, was he upset when you finally told him?”</p><p>The pout deepened. “No.”</p><p>Ludwig reached over to first smooth out the wild tuffs of hair the apron threw out of place. Feliciano let him. “You worry too much.” Next, Ludwig moved his hand down to Feliciano’s cheek, using his thumb to wipe away the red substance. Strawberry or raspberry filling? It left a light red stain against the skin, almost like a blush. “The apron suits you.” Ludwig wished he could blame the new warmth in his cheeks on fruit filing. “It’s cute.”</p><p>Feliciano’s cheek moved under Ludwig’s hand, the muscles pulling up into a smile. Ludwig felt his heart jump. “Thank you.”</p><p>And for moments that felt like minutes, Ludwig sat there, sweet filing on his thumb, leg pressed against Feliciano’s, unable to look away from the beautiful sight before him. All the while, Feliciano’s summer smile never left his lips, making his eyes shine as the faint sunlight streamed in from the grand window behind the couch. The only sound was the faint radio station playing from within the kitchen and the gentle patter of rain outside. Occasionally, a faint voice sounded from the other side of the window, but nothing broke the trance Ludwig and Feliciano found themselves in.</p><p>How did Ludwig ever get so lucky to call this man his boyfriend? In what lifetime did he do so much good that he was rewarded with such a sight now?</p><p>The bang of the front door being aggressively opened shook Ludwig from the spell and made Feliciano jump underneath his palm. They both jerked away, shy and uncertain, as if afraid of who may see their intimate moment. As if they haven’t been together for nearly two years. Loud laughter met their ears as rapid footsteps pass by the living room where they sat, pounding up the stairs of the two-story house a moment later. Ludwig reached over to the coffee table, placing the forgotten book down and grabbing a tissue to wipe his thumb clean. He handed one to Feliciano too to make sure his cheek didn’t remain sticky. Feliciano chuckled a little as he wiped away the faux blush, but a real warmth replaced it now.</p><p>Feliciano opened his mouth to speak, but before any words sounded, the rapid footsteps came back down the stairs, and Ludwig swore the last three were jumped from the loud <em>thunk</em> at the end. A blur of white ran by the living room again, but before they made it to the front door, feet skidded to a halt. Gilbert poked his head into the living room, a wild grin on his lips. “Do I smell raspberry turnovers?”</p><p>“Strawberry!” Feliciano corrects. “They’ll be out in thirty minutes.”</p><p>“Sweet!” Gilbert steps fully in view. In one arm he clutched a couple of jackets and a scarf. In the other hand was Gilbert’s acoustic guitar. Ludwig notices the cold flush to Gilbert’s cheeks and the slight sheen of water in his hair. He has been outside since mid-afternoon. They didn’t even move to come inside when the first signs of dark clouds drifted overhead, or when distant thunder rumbled. “I’ll bring Matthew in a bit!” And with that, Gilbert was speeding to the front door again.</p><p>“Remember, they need to-“ the front door slammed shut and Feliciano sighed out the rest of his sentence with an exasperated smile, “cool first.”</p><p>Ludwig grabbed the tissue from Feliciano and stood up, shaking his head from his brother’s antics. “Don’t waste your breath.” Gilbert has no patience for Feliciano’s sweets. Once, Gilbert was so excited to get to them that he reached into the oven without any protection on his hands and grabbed the glass pan. He whined for days about the light burns on his fingers. Rushing into things without thinking should be Gilbert’s trademark.</p><p>Feliciano’s laugh filled the room. “Do you even think he will be inside soon? He’s been outside with Matthew for a while now.” Ludwig could hear the smile in Feliciano’s voice without even needing to turn around. Ludwig couldn’t deny his own small smile at the thought of his brother with Matthew. Maybe Gilbert didn’t rush into all things without thinking.</p><p>“Not before they both get a cold.” As Ludwig tossed away the tissues, the sound of guitar strings being strummed came from outside. Ludwig turned back towards the couch, watching as Feliciano positioned his body so his knees were now on the cushions. Crouched down a little, Feliciano tried to peer out the window, hiding his face behind the curtain as he pulled it back to expose more of the scene before him. The childlike, almost innocent, attempt at spying made Ludwig’s chest warm.</p><p>Feliciano’s smile widened as he drank in the sight. There was a look in his eyes that made Ludwig remember briefly that Feliciano seemed to hear and see everything in high school. “I doubt they even know how romantic this is.” Feliciano even hushed his voice, as if the pair would hear him. Ludwig came back to the couch and resumed his place, letting Feliciano spy on the couple and picking up his book from the coffee table. He could hear his brother’s voice from outside, cords being played but no rhythm to it. Gilbert must be tuning the guitar. Ludwig opened his book; what page was he on again?</p><p>“You can’t just not look!” Ludwig raised his eyes from the printed words only to see Feliciano excitedly gesturing him towards the window. Hesitating for a small moment because this really isn’t a rare sight nor does Ludwig want to pry on the couple’s personal time, but Ludwig caved under Feliciano’s notions and closed his book once more, turning his body so that he too could look out the window. Looking past Feliciano’s head and leaning back against the couch, Ludwig looked out onto the front porch.</p><p>Sitting opposite of each other on the top steps, backs against the wooden columns of the wrap-around porch, was Gilbert and Matthew. From the angle Ludwig was at, Matthew’s back was to him, but he could clearly see Gilbert strumming the guitar on his lap. Both wore the jackets Gilbert rushed in to retrieve, and Ludwig thought he saw the scarf wrapped around Matthew’s hands as they rested in his lap. A cold rainfall surrounded them, the sky grey and the clouds dark and heavy, but still sparse enough to let in flittered sunlight. Though, Ludwig bet the storm would pick up soon. Water trickled over the roof, but the two were hidden just enough to where it didn’t touch them unless the wind picked up. Ludwig could see hair sticking to Matthew’s ears and Gilbert’s forehead, but he honestly doubted if it bothered the pair or if they even noticed.</p><p>Gilbert’s hands stopped moving and he repositioned his body to better balance the guitar on his lap, not even minding that his left foot was now resting on a step that was not covered by the overhanging porch roof. Luckily, Gilbert is wearing a pair of black combat boots that are hopefully not worn down as much as his converses are.</p><p>“All ready!” Gilbert’s voice carried through the window, the sound only slightly muffled by the glass. His fingers twitched around the neck of the guitar, red eyes alight and almost shinning in the low natural light. “Now, you pick the song.”</p><p>Ludwig watched as Matthew tilted his head in thought before lifting his hands from his lap, the scarf falling aside. Even though from this angle Ludwig could not read what he said, he knew that Matthew was making signs for Gilbert to read. Ludwig’s sign language was not as good as Gilbert’s, but his brother has had much more practice with it.</p><p>Gilbert’s wild grin softened at whatever Matthew signed. It’s rare to see such a gentle expression on Gilbert’s face, but Matthew always seemed to bring out a side of Gilbert not many people get to experience. “Perfect.” And then Gilbert began strumming the guitar.</p><p>After a few moments of gentle rifts, Gilbert closed his eyes and his voice drifted through the window. Maybe to an outsider Gilbert would like someone who could barely carry a tone to save his life, but it is the exact opposite. Gilbert is no short than a musical genius in Ludwig’s eyes. Back when Gilbert was in high school, he was sought after by both the choir and band teacher, but Gilbert chose to be in a causal band with two of his long-time friends instead; he even roped Ludwig into playing the drums part time. Ludwig never admitted that he enjoyed it, or that he still plays sometimes in private. Gilbert also used to take private lessons with an old neighbor, learning the piano and violin. Their uncle taught him the flute as well, and after his death, Gilbert was gifted their uncle’s personal one from his will. Gilbert still plays it in the comfort of his room from time to time.</p><p>And as luck would have it, Gilbert has a voice to match his musical talents. Even though the rain and window muffled the words, Ludwig could easily hear the even tone of his brother’s voice. Neither too deep nor too low, yet gruff enough to considered unique, Gilbert’s voice could capture anyone’s attention. Of course, Ludwig still had to deal with the horrid shower voice, but at times like these, it is easy for Ludwig to admire his brother’s talent.</p><p>“This is my favorite part,” Feliciano breathed beside him. Ludwig glanced over, seeing that Feliciano had settled down against the couch, legs folded to the side comfortably with his right arm resting on the back of the couch, allowing him to rest his head upon it. Feliciano still held the curtains back with his other hand, but everything felt relaxed. He no longer watched in childlike glee, but instead gazed upon the scene before him in somber silence. Ludwig could imagine the warm and gentle smile spread across his lips, and the thought of it made Ludwig smile a little himself.</p><p>Ludwig knew exactly which part Feliciano was talking about too as his eyes wandered back over to the couple sitting on the steps, for when Gilbert’s voice came to a stop, Matthew’s voice began.</p><p>The details are hidden, and Ludwig has never felt obligated to ask, but Matthew has been selectively mute since a young age. Ludwig only learned about the selective part when he accidentally caught Matthew singing with Feliciano as they baked together, having to awkwardly ask Feliciano about it later when Matthew left. All Ludwig knows is that music is the only form of sound Matthew feels comfortable with making, and Ludwig will let Matthew keep the silence he chooses to hold in public without questioning it. The only people who know about the trauma Matthew experienced to Ludwig’s knowledge are Gilbert and Feliciano, and Alfred. But Alfred left home a long time ago, leaving Matthew with letters marked with different postage stamps every month.</p><p>Matthew has a gentle voice, smooth where Gilbert’s is rough. Its range is higher, the tone lighter, and it matches Gilbert’s almost perfectly. Ludwig watched Gilbert’s eyes open, gazing at Matthew with a fondness that told Ludwig that he was completely and utterly in love with the man sitting before him.</p><p>Ludwig has never seen his brother look happier.</p><p>Feliciano released a soft breath, regarding his friend quietly as Matthew sang out soft words and harmonized with Gilbert. This is the only time anyone ever gets to hear his voice. Ludwig reached over and placed a gentle hand against Feliciano’s side. Ludwig did not know what expression Feliciano was making but feeling him relax under his hand told Ludwig enough. He used his thumb to rub soothing notions into Feliciano’s hip, listening to the pleasant song amongst the hum of rain.</p><p>Abruptly, Gilbert stopped strumming the guitar and placed it to the side, that wide grin back on his face. Matthew stopped singing as Gilbert took his hands and pulled him to his feet, stumbling down the steps with Gilbert and into the rain. Matthew yanked a hand away to try and make rapid signs in opposition, but Gilbert only laughed as he tugged him into the center of the front yard. Pulling Matthew in close, Gilbert began swaying them back and forth dramatically as he continued the song from where they left off, much less on tune and louder than needed.</p><p>Matthew tossed his head back with a laugh, a sound lost in the rain, and followed Gilbert’s example. Gilbert pulled Matthew around in circles and Matthew twirled Gilbert around in the rain, harmony lost to the thunder. Gilbert tried and failed to dip Matthew, slipping on the slick grass, and making them both fall into the ground. Feliciano laughed along with them, and Ludwig could only sigh with a humorous smile on his lips.</p><p>Ludwig slowly turned away from the scene and settled back down comfortably against the couch. A smile lingered on his lips as Ludwig opened his book once more, letting the rain and laughter be his background noise.</p><p>Ludwig will fetch them towels when they finally make their way inside for Feliciano’s baked sweets.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading, and I hope you will leave a comment or kudos! I would really appreciate it ^_^ </p><p>Wow, it has been a thousand years since I last posted something, or wrote anything at all. And of course I would get back into fanfiction with a small, little prucan and gerita story. Prucan is so close to my heart; they are something separate from Hetalia for me and always something I can look to for happiness. I’ve gone through some dark times recently, but I think I have finally pulled myself out of it. Or at least have pulled myself into a much better place, and I think the fact I’m posting this story shows that.</p><p>In this story, Matthew has traumatic mutism, which Ludwig calls “selectively mute.” Though they are similar, selective mutism is considered an extreme anxiety disorder and/or unable to process sensory experiences (so they become mute to avoid these feelings and experiences), but the child can still become relaxed in certain situations or environments and can speak. Traumatic mutism is where a child witnesses something they cannot comprehend or process and become mute in all situations, very rarely finding situations where they can speak. I say child in my explanations because this is most often diagnosed in children between the ages of 3 and 8, and though many do recover and find their voice, it is not without help from outside sources. Matthew, in this story, is between the age of 20 and 24.</p><p>In this story, Matthew does have a voice with singing, but he can only sing around those he has a deep emotional connection too, and Matthew has not, nor probably ever will, use his voice in social situations. He and Alfred experienced something traumatic in their home when they were young, but they both took different paths in processing it. Matthew was a shy and timid child, and he still suffers with anxiety and panic attacks, so he went mute. Alfred, as mentioned in the story, moved away as soon as he could and as far away as possible. He still has not settled down; always running, in a sense.</p><p>Matthew went to speech therapy and therapy in general, and he learned about sign language from a child who sat next to him in the waiting room. With sign language, Matthew learned how to communicate with people. Matthew is not unhappy, and he is perfectly happy with using signs to communicate. He also has good friends who were willing to learn as well.</p><p>I see Matthew writing poems and music, softly singing them in his room with Gilbert quietly playing piano or guitar for a melody. Gilbert never forces Matthew to speak, but is always happy to create music with the man he’s fallen in love with.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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